Fear not! For the crimson flag that proudly waves in these dawns, shall never fade,

Before the last fiery hearth that is ablaze within my nation burns out.

And that, is the star of my nation, and it will forever shine;

It is mine; and solely belongs to my valiant nation.

Frown not, I beseech you, oh thou coy crescent,

But smile upon my heroic race! Why the anger, why the rage?

Our blood we shed for you will not be worthy otherwise;

For freedom is the absolute right of my God-worshipping nation.

I have been free from eternity and forever will be so.

What madman shall put me in chains! I defy the very idea!

I'm like the roaring flood; I'll run over my embankment and overflow,

I'll tear apart mountains, exceed the offings and still gush out!

The horizons of the West may be armored with walls of steel,

But I have borders guarded by the mighty chest full of faith.

Recognize your innate strength (also interpreted as "Let it howl")! Never fear: how can this fiery faith ever be killed,

By that battered, single-fanged monster so-called "civilization"? (a symbol referring to the better-armed military forces of the invading European nations that had been greatly reduced by severe Turkish opposition - see Turkish War of Independence )

My friend! Leave not my homeland to the hands of villainous men!

Render your body shield, so that this disgraceful rush shall stop!

For soon shall come the promised days, by God (also interpreted as "the promised days, which you deserve)...

Who knows? Perhaps tomorrow? Perhaps even sooner!

View not the soil you tread on as mere earth, recognize it!

And think about the shroudless thousands who lie so nobly beneath it.

You're the noble son of a martyr, hurt not your ancestor, that will be shame on you!

Unhand not this heavenly homeland, even when you're given worlds.

What man would not die for this heavenly piece of land?

Martyrs would gush out were one to just squeeze the soil! Martyrs!

May God take my life, my beloved and all my possessions from me if He will,

But may He not deprive me of my one true homeland for the world.

Oh glorious God, the sole wish of my pain-stricken heart is that,

No extrinsic hand should ever touch the bosom of my sacred temple.

These adhans, shahadahs of which are the base of my religion,

May them resound over my eternal homeland.

For only then, shall my tombstone -if there is one- lay its forehead on the earth (like in salah) a thousand times in ecstasy,

And, o God, my bloody tears shall gush out of my every wound,

And precisely so shall my corpse gush out from the earth like an eternal spirit,

And perhaps only then, shall my head rise and at long last reach the heavens.

So flap and wave like the bright dawning sky, oh thou glorious crescent,